


Jeepers Reapers

by LizzaBissa



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-08-06
Updated: 2015-09-16
Packaged: 2018-04-13 05:35:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,151
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4509786
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LizzaBissa/pseuds/LizzaBissa
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ray is a ghost and desperately needs help. Too bad no one can see him, right?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Arcade Punk

**Author's Note:**

> The Major Character Death tag/Mature rating is mostly precautionary. Ray's dead, yes, but he's also a ghost and still an active character.
> 
> Also, Team Jones is minor/not the focus of the fic. Once Ryan is introduced it'll be very Raywood heavy.

“Some weather we’re having, huh?” Ray sat on the prize counter of his local arcade and kicked his feet against the glass. He was chatting idly with the poor sap stuck on prize duty with he waited for the Games Room to clear up.

“It’s too grey nowadays, if you ask me. That’s all it ever is. Fucking grey. I swear to God, it can be the perfect summer’s day, no clouds or anything, and it still manages to be gloomy as hell. What happened to my signature Texan sun? I want that back,” he said, turning to face his reluctant acquaintance. The prize guy didn’t answer though.

“Well, maybe it’s just me. Everyone else seems to enjoy it. I guess I just like staying inside, so anything not on a TV screen is too scary,” Ray said with mock sarcasm, followed by a heavy sigh. “I don’t like it, man. I wanna go home.”

A little kid interrupted Ray’s thought as she ran in front of them, clambering with a fistful of tickets and a face full of pizza.

“Whatcha want, champ?” The prize guy asked with as much forced enthusiasm as they could muster. Ray hopped off the counter the stepped to the side in the meantime. The child had a very thoughtful look on her face before pointing excitedly at a yo-yo. The exchange was made, and Ray jumped back up onto his place on the counter.

“Was that even enough tickets?”

“…Fuck, that wasn’t enough tickets. Twenty shy of a hundred,” the prize guy muttered to themself.

“Yikes, tough break,” Ray said. “Pay more attention next time. But listen, while you try to keep you job, I’m gonna check and see if DDR is open. Be back in a bit.” He wandered over to the back of the arcade where the weird Japanese games were, a little disappointed to find someone still on the machine.

It seemed like the dude was really burning through his tokens. Every time he picked a song, he’d struggle to keep up, and the game would end midway once his score dropped too low. It was pitiful, really. And after about six rounds of this, Ray couldn’t take it anymore. He took a step up to the second player’s side.

“Listen, buddy, look, I’m gonna help you out here. Obviously you’re not gonna leave until you win, so let’s just speed up the process, yeah?” He kicked the coin slot of the machine and cheated himself in a free play, selecting ‘Two Player Dance’ and ‘Random’ for the song.

The other person’s eyes never tore from the screen, and he still sucked at keeping up, but Ray timed his stomps just well enough to keep the game from dropping out. The screen flashed a brilliant ‘D – NICE TRY’ score at them, Ray spinning off the machine by the handlebar and grinning in victory.

“Hey, we did it! We can move on with our lives!” But his dance partner just frowned at his feet. “Aww, don’t look so down, we did good! Well, maybe not good, but y’know. ‘D’ is a passing grade.”

“Yo, Lindsay,” the guy called to a person a few arcade games away. “Come look at this.”

The person assumedly named Lindsay pulled herself away from the game she was playing to investigate. “What’s up?”

“I won.”

“…Uh, no you didn’t Michael. Screen says Player Two carried you.” Lindsay snorted.

“That’s not true though! I won on my own!”

“You’ve been on there for like an hour. I bet you—“

Ray didn’t listen to the end of Lindsay’s sentence. How fucking rude. He helps the dude finally win and he can’t even swallow his pride long enough to thank him? Yeah, real mature.

“I do this to myself,” Ray thought. “I hang out at the arcade and this always happens. I shouldn’t get my hopes up and assume things will ever go differently.” He huffed and walked back over to the prize counter, disappoint to find his griping buddy was gone. Leaving him to stew in self-pity alone. Fantastic.

Ray hopped up and kicked his feet against the glass again, wondering what to do with himself now. He’d practically been haunting the arcade every day for at least two weeks now, but nothing had changed. He hadn’t had his epiphany yet; the arcade was the same, he was the same, and his life was still shit no matter what he did. He came here for answers but, it was becoming clear, there were none to be found. Not here, anyway.

At that moment Michael and Lindsay walked passed the prize counter. Wiped after that DDR session, Ray figured. It looked like they were heading out and back home, but right as they took a step out the door, Lindsay grabbed Michael by the arm and dragged him back inside. She pulled some tickets out of her pocket and counted them in her hands, walking back up to where Ray was sitting.

“Hey, do you work here? I’ve got like 60 tickets and I want a sick ass spider ring.” She said happily.

Ray gaped like a fish.

“Uh, is 60 not enough? If not I can—“ she turned to Michael—“hey, can you spot me a few more tickets?”

“No! No, no, uh, I’m sorry, I don’t actually work here. I’m just sitting on the counter because, uh, because I’m an asshole.” He stuttered in absolute disbelief. This wasn’t real. This wasn’t happening.

“Ohp, sorry. I feel you though, man. I would—” A perplexed look passed over Lindsay’s face. “Wait. You… you were behind the DDR machine, right? Were you the one that carried my husband on that?”

Ray could feel himself physically shaking now. “Y-Yeah, that was me. I’m sorry.”

“What? No, don’t be, it means I finally get to go home and have some real food. I can’t tell you how sick I am of pizza,” sneering in Michael’s direction while he tapped obliviously at this phone. “I’ll leave you alone though. Thanks again!”

“Wait!” Ray jumped off the cabinet and caught Lindsay’s shoulder as she turned to leave. He couldn’t let this pass him by. Not after how long he’d been waiting.

“Wooaah, buddy, slow down.” Lindsay said, pulling back and closer to Michael. “Cold hands much?”

“Hey, my hands aren’t that cold,” Michael interjected.

“No, not you, him. His hands.”

“…Who? Lindsay, there’s no one there.”

“Bullshit. Are you still bitter about the DDR thing? C’mon Michael, he helped you win, don’t be a baby about it.”

“Please,” Ray interrupted, desperation evident in his voice, “it doesn’t matter. I just need help.”

Silence fell over the group and a sudden tension filled the air, the thickness of it making it difficult to breathe.

“Are… Are you in some kind of trouble?” Lindsay asked quietly.

“Y-Yes. I’m, I, your husband can’t see me because, I, I’m not. You’re actually the odd one out here. A lot of people can’t see be me because I’m—“ Ray took a deep breath, “I’m a ghost. I’m dead.”

He took a step back towards the prize counter, knowing he’d have to prove his words. Lindsay’s face already read like a book of incredulity. He reached down, arm passing through the glass, and picked up a spider ring, phasing it back through the glass with the rest of his hand. He gently passed it onto Lindsay while she looked on in utter disbelief. Michael, staring at the ring now too, wasn’t doing much better.

“S-See? I’m a ghost. I’ve, I’ve been hanging around this arcade because a lot of people pass through here. I figured, well, someone has to see me at some point. And it l-looks like that’s you. So now that you’re here can you please? Please help me.”

“Lindsay, what’s going on? What just happened?” Michael had his arms wrapped tightly around her.

“There’s a ghost, and he’s talking to me, and he needs help.”

“Yeah? And what exactly is it you need?” Michael asked the space in front of him, gaze obviously projecting beyond where Ray was standing.

“…I need you to help me find a reaper.”


	2. I Knew

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ghost life is shit life and Ray is rapidly losing hope. He's going to lose his mind if he can't find someone to help him soon.

“…A REAPER?! DO WE LOOK LIKE THE GHOSTBUSTERS TO YOU?!”

“Lindsay, what—“

“NO. No. Michael, I don’t know if I’m going fucking insane here or what, but I’m drawing the line at being asked to find a fucking reaper.” She grabbed Michael by the arm and sighed, turning to look Ray in the eye. “Look, I’m sorry, but I can’t help you. Not with that. Just, hang out at a fucking graveyard or something? There’s probably a shit ton of reapers there.”

Ray started to object, desperate for help, but Lindsay was already dragging Michael out of the arcade. The door shut quickly behind them, and Ray was alone again. He could feel himself shaking.

What was he expecting? What was he expecting? That things were really going to be that simple? He covered his mouth, mind racing back to earlier, and no, no, of course it wasn’t going to be that simple. He wasn’t going to have an epiphany, he wasn’t going to find someone that could help him. This whole arcade thing was stupid. It was a dumb idea from the start, he should have never come here, never stayed. It was just fucking sad and stupid and Lindsay was right he should have just hung out at a graveyard in the first place.

Tears streaming down his face, Ray phased through the front door of the arcade and stepped out onto the street, glad that none of the passing cars could see what a mess he was. Everything inside him screamed to just run and hide and get away, but he knew there was no point to that. So he walked along the pavement in silence.

And walked, and walked. And walked. He didn’t know where he was going. Ray was just kind of going. He let his feet take him wherever they pleased while he wiped his face and wondered how he’d wound up so fucking miserable. What did he do wrong? What could he have done differently? Was he even ready to pass on? Did he really want to find a reaper?

He didn’t have the answers to any of those questions. He knew that he was dead, a ghost, but he didn’t know how he died. He knew his name was Ray, but he knew next to nothing else about his past life. He had a feeling he lived alone? But somehow had a lot of visitors over? Not like he could recall the names of any friends. He was Ray, he was dead, and that was all he really knew.

So why _did_ he want to find a reaper? Probably just because he was sad, right? Bored? Lindsay was the first person to have ever seen him. There didn’t even seem to be any other ghosts around to talk to. So, yeah, more than anything else, Ray was lonely and afraid. Anything would be better than this. This emptiness. The grey coloring of the world and lack of interaction. Hell, even Hell would be better. Eternal damnation couldn’t be that bad if it meant feeling something.

But Ray looked up, and realized he had walked all the way to a graveyard. Just like Lindsay had said.

Huh.

A low fence wrapped all the way around the field of headstones, just a few inches from the sidewalk Ray was standing on. A few trees were spotted throughout, a gentle breeze ruffling their leaves. No other people were around. It was quiet, and peaceful.

After a moment’s hesitation, Ray hopped the fence of the graveyard and walked further into the center of the field. He wondered, did it matter if he stepped over the graves of those resting here? Not like he was actually here, like he could actually leave footprints. But he figured it was just the principle of the matter, respecting someone out of courtesy, not necessity, so he took the time to carefully weave himself through the headstones, avoiding the patches of ground where strangers rested below.

At the center of the field stood a tall tree, greeting Ray like an old friend. It was easily the biggest thing here, even outsizing the visitors’ building at the entrance. It seemed… motherly. Like something inside it was conscious, alive, protecting all the quiet souls of the graveyard.

Ray decided he was just going to stay here for a while. Honestly, he didn’t know what else to do. And if a reaper was just going to, well, wander in, then it’d probably be here under the spirit tree, right?

…Uhm, no, this plan was starting to sound suspiciously like a recent plan that didn’t work out so fucking well. Just hang around a place until the person of your dreams shows up? Yeah, right. Okay. This wasn’t going to work.

Ray threw his hands behind his head and paced in a circle. What was he supposed to do? This wasn’t good, none of this was good. He could feel his eyes prickling with tears again.

No, fuck it, no, there had to be a way. He was at fucking graveyard, there had to be a way to summon a goddamn reaper in a literal garden of death. Ray slid his arms back down to his sides and tipped his head back.

Above him, the leaves of the spirit tree offered no answers. They swayed gently, as if trying to calm him, but their whispers were deaf on his forlorn ears.

“Am I just supposed to accept this?” He spoke to the air. “That I’m just gonna be like this forever? No passing on, no friends, no idea who I even fucking am? I’m just gonna fucking live in a grey fucking world until I go insane and turn into a mindless ghoul or whatever the SHIT happens when you’re an old crazy ghost?!” He was crying again, screaming at nothing.

“I don’t want this! I don’t want to be sad and alone on the edge of reality. I just want to die like a normal person and pass on and not have to deal with any of this in between ghost bullshit. I just,” Ray’s breath hitched, “I just want to die and I can’t even do that. So just. Fuck.” He dropped to his knees and leaned against the tree, using it as support as he sobbed and completely gave in to his hopelessness. The world around him felt especially cold now.

“…Hey.”

Ray choked on his spit and scrambled up from his spot.

“Can you like, stop crying? I can hear you buddy, I’m right here, no need to scream about it.”

“Who the fuck are you?” Ray whimpered. In front of him stood a large man in a black hoodie and jeans, nonchalantly picking at his fingernails while he spoke to Ray. His hair was a strange kind of dirty blonde, shiny brown, but even more striking than that were his eyes. They were pitch black where the whites should have been, and pure white where the pupils should have been.

The man looked up from his hands. “You said you wanted to die, right? That’s what I’m here for. I kill people, that’s sort of my shtick.”

“That doesn’t explain who the fuck you are.”

“Look. I’m sorry, okay? I’m sorry. Nobody has ever seen you before. Strange. I walked up behind you while you were crying. Also strange, and embarrassing. So I get it, I’m weird, but you’re just going to have to trust me when I tell you that I can help you.”

Ray took a step back. This guy was right, there was a lot that caught him off guard. Stating it out loud didn’t rationalize it away, though. “I-I’m gonna ask you one more time: who the hell are you?”

The man sighed.

“I’m Ryan. I’m the reaper you’ve been looking for.”


	3. Ideals

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ray found a reaper. Time to strike a deal.

Well. Shit, okay. 

“You’re a reaper?” 

“Yes, I’m a reaper. Hi, nice to meetcha.” 

“…You said your name was Ryan?” 

“Yes.” 

Ray squinted. “Aren’t. Aren’t reapers supposed to be really fucking old or some shit? Why isn’t your name something more demonic? I mean, you look like someone out of a JCPenny’s coupon book.” 

“Hey! That’s mean! I look like this because I don’t wanna scare people like you! I put a lot of thought into this form!”

“This fo—this form? Right. Alright.” Ray threw his hands up and turned his back on Ryan. This was too much. He didn’t know what he thought a reaper would look like, but never in his wildest dreams did he imagine it’d look like a Grade A Dad that caught him crying. It was just plain fucking embarrassing, and he wasn’t even sure if he wanted to ask for help anymore. Well, he HAD to at this point, but he wasn’t going to be happy about it. 

Ray’s thoughts were interrupted by a tap on his shoulder. 

“…You were expecting something more like this, weren’t you?” 

Ray turned back, and _fucking shrieked._ Towering behind him was a mass of tattered black cloth, easily twelve feet tall, topped by a bleach white cow skull. A hand moved from behind the cloak, gnarled and seemingly burnt by fire, to rest on Ray’s shoulder. He was too terrified to flinch. 

“Well,” a voice spoke, seemingly from the inside of his own head. “Was this more what you were expecting?” 

Ray looked up at the skull before him and nodded feebly. 

“Mmmmm, good,” the voice rumbled. “I don’t like doing this often. But you seemed like you needed to see this.” Ryan tilted his head and slowly crouched down to Ray’s level. “No… I know you needed to see this, because I know more about you than you care to imagine.” 

Ray felt like a child again. A tiny, petrified child. What had he gotten himself into? 

“You see, Ray, I know how small you feel right now, and I know that you’re doubting yourself. So you needed to see this. You needed to know I was the real cheese, and that your decision in all of this would be very much final.” 

“I… I lost you at ‘the real cheese.’” Ray whimpered. 

“Hmm. I got used to the casual tone of speech. I haven’t spoken like an omniscient in a long time. It sets people on edge, you know? Turn around for a moment.” 

Ray did as he was told and turned away from Ryan. 

“…There we go,” a more tangible, human voice spoke. “I’ve changed back, so you can turn around again.” 

“I’m not sure I want to.” 

“Ray, c’mon, it’s fine. Just turn around, I promise I’m not going to eat you.” 

“Your eyes are still creepy.” 

Ryan huffed and walked in front of Ray, indeed looking much more normal this time. But he was right; Ryan’s eyes were still black with white pupils. “I can’t help the eyes. It’s sort of a uh, contractual obligation. I can take any form I want to, but people still have to be able to tell I’m a reaper at a glance. So, I chose to make my eyes creepy. I could turn them normal, if you like, and have skeleton arms instead.” 

“NO.” Ray interjected. “No. Uh, the eyes are fine. Please no skeleton arms. Please.” 

“Fine with me. I like the eyes better anyway. Makes me look cooler than I actually am.” Ryan grinned. 

“You… Do you not think you’re cool?” Ray asked, releasing the tension in his shoulders ever so slightly. “I mean, yeah, you’re fucking terrifying, but you spoke directly into my head, and read my mind, and…” Ray paused. “I don’t think I ever told you my name. Dude, what the fuck?”

“Oh. Whoops. That’s uh, also part of the job. I greet the dead, right? Help them move on to their afterlife and all that. Well, part of that is knowing their name, helping them feel calm and safe when I meet them. Usually I’ll ask first, so I don’t seem too weird, but I sort of instinctually know a person’s name when I meet them.” Ryan waved a hand up and down. “I don’t know the names beforehand, it’s not like I have a list to read. I just get a gut feeling, y’know?” 

“No, I don’t know. Because I’m not a fucking all-seeing reaper.” Ray crossed his arms and sulked. He still wasn’t sure how to feel about all this, but it was… nice, to be talking to someone. Fucking scary, considering the circumstances, but nice. He felt like he was finally getting somewhere. “But… okay, reaper powers make your eyes creepy, and reaper powers let you know people’s names, but why have I, uhm.” He took a moment to organize himself. “Why have I been a ghost for so long? Do you not have powers that let you know when to pick people up?” 

Ryan shifted on his feet. “Hm. That’s a good question. Because, yes, in short, we have powers that let us know when to pick people up. Almost as soon as someone dies, we get that same kind of gut feeling telling us where to go. And I won’t dive any more into that, but sometimes the system… slips up, so to speak. There are exceptions that don’t alert us. You, I think, were one of those exceptions. Something in your life made you die differently.” 

“Oh, you mean in the life I can totally remember?” Ray said facetiously, pushing his head in his hands. “Fantastic. Hey, thanks living me! For fucking me over! Thanks a lot!” 

“…You don’t remember your life? Even though you’ve been wandering for a while?” 

Ray groaned. “No, I don’t. Should I?” 

“Nah, it’s just. Do you remember how you died?” 

“No. I can only remember back to the times I’ve been a ghost. Which has only been a couple months, at most.” 

“Huh.” Ryan looked thoughtful for a moment, then decided to give up on standing. He sat where Ray was crying a moment before. Ray joined him at his side. 

“Why? Is that a bad thing? Should I remember?” He had already taken to idly plucking grass. 

“No, no, not at all. Everyone has their own pace for remembering their living life. It’s just bizarre that you’re an exception to the system, that you don’t remember anything at all. Most people can recall bits and pieces. Something really weird must have happened to you.” 

“…So what do I do?” 

Ryan looked over at Ray, the young ghost already searching his face for answers. He wasn’t sure how to answer that desperation, but he would try. “Uhm, well,” Ryan held up two fingers, “I figure there’s two ways we can go with this.” 

“Yeah?” 

“Yeah. One is to just take you to the afterlife. No more questions, no more staying here, no nothing. I just take you and let you move on and that’s it.” 

“Oh.” Ray was quiet for a long time, and Ryan let it hang there. Neither of them seemed happy with that answer. “Wh-What’s option two, then?” 

“We make a deal. You stay here, with me, and we try to learn what your living life was like.” 

“What do you mean by ‘deal’?” 

“See, that’s part of the reaper thing. I can never just do charity out of the good of my heart. There always has to be a trade, a deal. So, I help you learn about your life, but in exchange you have to help me learn something too.” 

Ray made a face. “Being a reaper sure comes with a lot of rules.” 

“Ha, yeah, you’re tellin’ me.” Ryan shrugged. “I’m used to it though. I’ve been doing this job long enough that I’ve learned to just roll with it.” 

“Yeah, but. Well, I guess that’s my next question. What the hell am I even supposed to TEACH you? You’re older than time and you literally read my mind. What the fuck is left for you to learn?” 

“You’d be surprised. There’s a lot of things I don’t understand.” 

“Like what?” 

Ryan sighed and tipped his head back. “Like… I dunno, life experience and junk? I never had a living life, Ray. I’ve always been a reaper. I don’t know what it means to grow up and, like, be a person. I’ve learned to be nice to ghosts, but that’s kinda it.” 

Ray stared incredulously. “So. What you’re saying is you need me to teach you how to have feelings, is that right? Because you never went through life and death, love and loss, all that?” 

“Well when you put it like that it sounds lame, but yeah. I need you to teach me how to have feelings. I think… I think reapers were never meant to have feelings, because otherwise we’d just go crazy from living forever, but,” Ryan stopped himself. “It doesn’t matter. The important thing is that it gives you something to bargain with. And it should be easy! Just follow me around and talk about what you’re feeling until I pick up on it, y’know?” 

“What if I can’t teach you that though?” 

“You will.” 

“Ryan. Listen to me. What will happen if I can’t uphold my end of the deal?” 

“You,” Ryan sighed, “you’ll be fine. If you can’t keep your end, you’ll probably just have to stick with me as a ride along forever.” 

“Really? That’s it? No eternal damnation straight to hell elevator?” 

“No, the universe isn’t that cruel.” 

Ray laughed and folded his hands in his lap, fidgeting with his fingers. “So… how do we go about making a deal then?” 

Ryan scooched from where he was sitting to properly face Ray. “We start with the formalities.” He put a hand to his chest and cleared his throat. “Hh-hmm. Ray, have you fully considered both options I gave you? You must understand that choosing one means completely giving up the other, with no chance of it ever happening. If you choose to go, you will probably never find out who you were. You’ll live forever in paradise, but you’ll never, ever be able to remember what your living life was like. And if you choose to stay, you will have to endure the pain of rediscovery. Finding out not only how you lived, but how you died, is going to be gruesome and unpleasant and constantly tiring. 

“Is your desire to sate your uncertainties strong enough that you’re willing to give up and easy pass into the afterlife? Are you really more desperate to find answers for your peace than to simply accept it at face value? Or are you done wandering as a ghost on Earth? Does your will pull you more strongly to seek an exit, rather than a resolution?”

Ray listened to Ryan’s words carefully and thought back to his insecurities from earlier. On his walk up here, he decided he wanted to find a reaper because he was bored and lonely. He decided that he didn’t want to be sad anymore. That death would be better than feeling empty like this. But now that he had a reaper in front of him, he realized it wasn’t truly death that he wanted, just the feeling of not being so alone. And now, he was being told that death wasn’t the only option. He could stay, explore, complete himself in the company of a reaper. 

He could bring his life to a close, and he didn’t have to be alone. 

“I… Yes, I’ve considered both of my options. I want to stay here and make a deal with you, and find out who I used to be.” Ray said resolutely. 

“Very well then. Give me your hand.” 

He obeyed, giving his right hand over to Ryan, who took it in both his own. “Uhm,” Ray started nervously. “You’re not gonna—“ 

“Hurt you? No, of course not. The binding process is painless. Look.” Ryan drew one hand back to pull a strip of black cloth out of the front pocket of his hoodie. Ray couldn’t help but notice that it looked exactly like the cloth that made up his body in that skeletal form. But Ryan wrapped it gracefully around Ray’s hand, tying a knot at the back and letting the palm of his hand face upwards. He traced little circles into his hand through the cloth, muttering some incantation that Ray couldn’t make sense of. 

“…And so it shall be.” He said finally, untying the knot and removing the cloth. To Ray’s surprise, there was now a marking on the palm of his hand, kind of like a tattoo.   
It was a simple black circle, with a line at the middle drawn out and pointing towards his fingers. And, it seemed familiar, Ray thought. Kind of like the ‘power on’ logo on electronics, but with the circle complete. 

“That symbol will stay there until our deal is fulfilled, and it’ll bind you to me until then too.” 

“Really? That’s it?” Ray asked, touching at the mark. 

“Yep. It works like, uhh, ‘reaper power GPS.’ I’ll get that gut feeling that tells me where you are and stuff.” 

“Huh. Do you get a mark?” 

“Yeah, actually. Mine is on my left hand.” Ryan held up his palm and waved his fingers at Ray. “It happened while I was drawing circles on yours. And you’ll kind of get a sense where I am too. Fair warning though, it’ll probably take some time to get used to, so I’d suggest sticking close to me for the first few hours here. The further apart we are, especially in the beginning, the more uncomfortable you’re going to be. The magic needs time to settle and not be so… magnetic, I guess is the word.” 

Ray blinked. That sounded a little. Intimidating. Expected for a contract with a reaper, he supposed, but weird and slightly concerning. “A-Alright. Is there anything else I should know about?” 

“Uuuhhh…” Ryan tapped at his chin. “Nope, I don’t think so. You don’t need to worry about the mark fading away or anything since it’s permanent so long as we’re bound. And once we’re done, it’ll fade away completely, along with the binding feeling. But that’s about all there is to it.” 

“You say that like it’s so simple and not a black magic ritual,” Ray snarked. 

“Alright, alright, enough outta you.” Ryan grinned, standing up and offering his hand to Ray. “We’ve got business to attend to! Reaper business! Lost souls to pick up.”   
Ray took Ryan hand and hoisted himself up with a groan. “Ugh, already? I didn’t think we’d start right away.” 

“Aww, c’mon, it’ll be fun! Plus it’s part of the deal so you don’t have choice.” Ryan teased. “Heh. First stop, Jersey Mike’s!”


End file.
